


The Armour That We Wear

by puff22_2001



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Lack of Communication, Loss of Virginity, Minor Injuries, Nudity, Second Chances, Sex Pollen, neither of the last two things actually happen in THIS story but I reference them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24638605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puff22_2001/pseuds/puff22_2001
Summary: Mamoru and Usagi have been apart for almost a decade. When fate finally intervenes, they have to deal with the emotional fallout. What happened to them, and why?
Relationships: Chiba Mamoru/Tsukino Usagi
Kudos: 25





	The Armour That We Wear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FloraOne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloraOne/gifts).



> This fanfiction is inspired by FloraOne's La Douleur Exquise, wherein the R breakup arc never actually ended and how that affected Mamoru and Usagi. You don't specifically need to read that story to enjoy this one, but I highly recommend the tale. FloraOne is adept at weaving real emotion with pure porn. For those of us who need feelings with our smut, FloraOne is a great author.

The morning light filters warmly into the bedroom. Usagi sighs, lost in the moment before she really wakes. The arms around her are so new and yet so familiar.

Then the pain hits.

“Owww.” Usagi sits up gingerly, loosening Mamoru’s arms only enough to let them drift to her waist. Every inch of her is aching. Even her hair, somehow!

Hands on her scalp, fingers digging in, the pain beautiful and needed and so right…

Oh yeah.

“Mamoru.” Usagi gently pushes against the man, who only snuffles and tightens his grip in response. “Mamoru!”

“What is it?” His voice is muffled and petulant as he pushes his face into her thigh. Usagi wants to enjoy this, wants to bask in years of agony lifted and sorrow burst. But sailor healing can only do so much.

“I need aspirin, yesterday.”

At that Mamoru sighs and removes his arms from her waist to sit up. He doesn’t look at her as he hands her a bottle from his nightstand, nearly empty.

“I’m sorry.” She wants to scream in frustration (much different from last night’s cries). Yes, they need to talk and yes they have to somehow rebuild their lives after nine years pining within arm’s reach, but the last thing they need is to start wallowing.

“You didn’t scratch your own back bloody.”

Usagi can see that he wants to argue, but instead Mamoru takes a deep breath and finally faces her. “I’m still sorry.”

“I am too.” Not that she hurt him in their “throes of passion” as a bad romance novel might say. Every mark either of them have included an endless litany of “are you OK?” and “do you like this?” and “I want to make you happy.” No, Usagi is sorry that they lost so much time. They’ll never get back that almost-decade of chaste high school kisses and ice cream dates and learning to grow up together.

And why didn’t they have that, anyway?

Taking four of the pills from the bottle, Usagi waits for her anger to subside and the tears to recede before she asks the question aloud. The aspirin is bitter dry, and the taste is something to focus on other than her bewildered heart.

Mamoru, for his part, gets up to go into his bathroom, returning with a glass of water. He hands it to Usagi with not-quite-a-smirk. Much different from the grins he’d given her as children, before they’d been dead and revived and in love. Much better than the terse frowns he’d thrown her way for so long.

The question bubbles up again as he settles back in beside her, clasping his arms around her again, front to back and skin to skin. She just wants to stay here, safe and warm, with the only man she’s ever loved. Two lifetimes and all of eternity etched into their skin like the scars that map their bodies.

But she has to know why.

“What happened?” Usagi isn’t sure if he’ll understand, but Mamoru buries his face in her shoulder and doesn’t answer for a long, long time. Long enough for Usagi to drink most of the glass of water. Long enough for her to wonder if he’ll answer at all. Long enough for her rage to return, always bubbling close to the surface after all these years.

Just when she’s gearing up to start shouting again, Mamoru finally talks.

“I was afraid.” Usagi starts to protest that she’s been afraid every single day for nearly ten years, but Mamoru continues into her bruised skin and golden hair. “I had nightmares of you dying and of the world burning.”

“Mamoru, we all have those nightmares!”

“But they were visions, Usagi! Not just bad dreams. Ask Rei!” Usagi is not entirely sure what he means until, “When you girls had to fight the Silence, what did Rei see? Visions of your death and the end of the world.”

“She didn’t stop talking to me, Mamoru!” Usagi wrenches free, if only to turn clumsily on her butt to face him. They’re both tangled in the sheets, and Mamoru’s got tears in his eyes. The wailing fury and the weeping sorrow are like pieces of a broken mirror, breaking and scraping against each other. Usagi wonders for a moment if her Dream Mirror has shattered once more, looking into the despair in Mamoru’s eyes.

“She didn’t stop being my friend! She didn’t lie to me for almost ten years, pretending like she didn’t...she didn’t love me any more.”

Mamoru’s arms raise slightly, hesitantly. Perhaps, years ago, he’d argue. Once upon a time, that’s how they danced around forgotten emotions and new attractions.

Now, he just sits there, tears in his eyes and arms raised, silently asking for the thing Usagi’s wanted to give him every single day. A hug.

Usagi can’t deny him her best skill.She falls into his arms, her own tears ignored as she clings to her masked savior, her dork and her knight and her love.

Mamoru strokes her hair and speaks softly, the self-loathing clear as glass in his voice. “I was so scared, Usagi. I didn’t care how much I hurt you, if it meant you were alive to hate me.”

“We could have figured it out together! Think of the battles we’ve fought, think of how much we could have had together.” Usagi wants to pound on his chest as she had the night before, but her heart isn’t in it. She’s too tired, too relieved to have him back after so long. “We lost so much time.”

The sunlight doesn’t feel as warm, now, as she remembers. They can’t ever get that time together back. Mamoru, for his part, doesn’t reply for a moment.

When he does, it’s with determination, surprising Usagi in his arms. She looks up into his face, wondering at the change of mood. There’s still tears leaking from his eyes, but there’s a tentative smile there as well.

“I can’t ever give you back those years, Usagi. But if you’ll have me, I’ll give you the rest of my long, long life.”

Usagi gawks. Did he just, “Are you seriously proposing?”

“I told you last night that I was done lying. We’re meant to be together.” Mamoru has the good grace to look sheepish as he continues. “The sex bubble didn’t act on anything that wasn’t already there.”

“We haven’t even been friends for nearly a decade. We just took each other’s virginity because of a random magical sex-inducing bubble. It’s literally the day after we’ve gotten back together, and you’re proposing?”

Mamoru’s smile falters. “Yes? I mean, I didn’t think we’d get married right away, but.”

Usagi silences him when she takes his face in her hands and kisses him with gusto. All of her love is in that kiss, all of her pent-up emotion and relief. They break apart, breathless, and Usagi takes the opportunity to squeeze Mamoru as hard as she can.

“Yes! Yes yes yes!” She’s giddy and manic, already planning the wedding in her head. They’ll talk about this more, of course they will. They’ll have to hash out boundaries and how to deal with prophetic visions of destruction (together!) and all of that. But not right now. Not today.

“Mamo-chan, I’ve always loved you. I’ve loved you before I was even born, and that’s a factual statement in our case.” Usagi smiles up at him again, disheveled with joy. “I’ll always, always love you. No matter what happens to us, no matter what we face, we’ll always win together. I love you.”

Mamoru kisses her again, long and sweet. Then he gently lays them both down, untangles the blankets, and covers them both once more. If he had plans for the day, he’s clearly blowing them off. With her. For her.

“My soul has loved you for at least two lifetimes. I’ll love you for every lifetime to come.” He doesn’t let go of her; in fact, he pulls Usagi even closer in his arms. “I’ll never leave again, Usako. I’ll never leave again, and I’ll always love you.”

Mamoru kisses her face, over and over, whispering love into her skin, until she drifts off.

The sun is warm, the morning is bright, and Usagi, in Mamoru’s arms, is finally, finally home.


End file.
